Race Report: Conquer the Cove Trail Marathon (Alexis)

Going into this race I knew two things: 1.) I was likely not going to win, not with Dacia Reed on the entrant list and 2.) I had committed to a second run in the afternoon in an attempt to run upwards of 50 miles as my last (extremely) long day before Western States. Knowing these things I was still unsure of whether I was going to 'race' or just 'train' through the marathon as I waited at the start line for the Conquer the Cove Marathon to begin.

Fortunately, I've made many friends in the Mountain Junkies scene and decided to focus on catching up with them rather than the bigger, longer task ahead. Starting out on the road I allowed myself to fall back, maintaining a ten minute pace on asphalt as I watched many of the runners I like to run with pull away. I figured it was important to warm up and that it was a long race, that I could catch up. Reaching the Trough trail I was feeling good but already sweating despite not overly pushing it. I was caught up in a conversation when we came across the first water stop. It was early, I thought the aid stations were two miles apart and so I made the fatal race error to skip this aid station seeing as my bottle was halfway full.

I should have seen that bottle as halfway empty.

Running on, I was sweating and drinking and not long after my bottle was empty and I looked at my watch and we were not even four miles in, I began to grow concerned. Then over the next few miles I began to have little sizzling calf cramps all over my lower legs, they were not debilitating but they were fearsome and I backed off my pace and kept listening for sounds of the next approaching aid station which, to my absolute dismay, turned to be much further out than I had anticipated. I slowed down fearing that if I ran hard it would make me sweat more and become worse off. Clearly I did a poor job of reading the water stop description and paying attention at the first aid station sign, both of which would have prepared me for the distance between aid stations.

I was so thankful when I finally heard the sounds of the aid station but there was still a switchback or two before we finally came upon it. I filled my bottle with water and drank a cup of Gatorade, something that I never do but hoped it would help stop the cramping.

I took a GU, some salt pills and drank up the water but I still continued to experience the little sizzling cramps. I focused on staying steady even if it was slower than I would have liked and was happy to finally be sweating again. At the third aid station I drank two cups of Gatorade and filled my bottle once again. In the Enchanted Forest I had a moment where I thought I was on the wrong trail and slowed a little as I was all alone, I was really considering turning around when I finally caught sight of a runner ahead and decided that at least I wasn't alone anymore even if I was lost. Thankfully, however, I wasn't lost and soon saw a streamer again.

Through this section of the race I kept wavering about whether to just call it a day and just finish or try and pick the pace up. For a few minutes I would decide none of it mattered, just enjoy the day and my surroundings. Other times I would decide that the race was long and I still had a chance of a good day. Then other times I was down on all of it and had to convince myself to keep a steady moving pace. It's too early for this to be your wall, find your will, I would try to encourage. At one point in the down and out I saw Randy and Lauren up ahead and picked up the pace to catch up with them. I was hoping we could help each other along. They were quiet, as was I, and Lauren's stomach was upset, I moved ahead slowly as Randy wished me a good day.

With the poor hydrating choice early on I had forgone any GU schedule and I had the overall feeling that even if I was just 'training through' I wasn't really even doing a good job with this training run. At mile 13 I finally looked at my watch for the first time in a long while, it said 2:07. The race was advertised at being 26.4, I figured I would be lucky to hit under 4:20 at all and I knew that the '1,000 foot climb' was still looming up ahead. I decided to restart a GU schedule of every 40 minutes and run as steady as possible.

I was hoping to find runners up ahead to try and pull me but I was out there alone for miles, I ended up having to go to my iPod for help. I started focusing on mile signs and when the big climb was coming. When I reached the climb I found the first part to be the hardest, the section that is before the aid station, I had to walk and tried to alternate with short bursts of both running and walking. I knew I was walking too much and that if I walked this much of the climb I was destined to run more like 4:30.

Coming into the aid station I took a GU, drank a little more Gatorade and filled my bottle. The awesome volunteers directed me to tubs of cold towels and I washed my face and neck down with one which was amazing. I left the aid station knowing I had to run stronger than I was really feeling like running, I wanted to be done, I knew I'd regret it later if I didn't try and do my best on the hill. I tried to convince myself that if I ran well I might catch someone on the hill. I started running and ran the next mile, but I didn't see another runner. I gave myself a break but in retrospect I have a tendency to just be lazy, I didn't probably need that break. I tried to 'hike' thinking of Western States and the need to be a good hiker, but my watch said over 16 minute pace and I felt strong enough to run so I just went back to running deciding to save practicing hiking for another day. I did take another two short walk breaks but I think the hill was actually easier than I found it last year. I had run slower to get to the climb than last year's race so maybe that plays a part in it but I found it to have more flattish sections than I recalled from the year before. Then finally I saw a female up ahead. Thinking she was the first runner I had seen in miles, I set my sights on her. Then up ahead I saw another figure, I could have sworn their running posture was incredibly familiar. I thought it was my husband Todd.

I picked up the pace but the runner I thought was Todd disappeared on a slightly downhill section, I couldn't decide if this further suggested it was Todd who runs well downhill or if I was possibly just dreaming his presence pulling me ahead. I ran harder to try and find out. The aid station that represents the top of the climb and begins the descent to the finish appeared and I became more certain that the runner ahead was Todd, his form is uniquely his own. I ran harder in the hopes that we could push each other towards the finish. Whenever I come across Todd in a race it is the same way, I offer to help push each other along and he barely speaks to me, just pushes me on ahead. I tried to give him ibuprofen at the aid station but he just told me to chase down the girl who had left the aid station just as we were arriving.

Deciding not to argue I ran on ahead even though he is usually a much better downhill runner than I am. Not long after beginning the decent my stomach started to bother me. I began to slow and then my body told me to find a tree or else. I listened and climbed into the woods watching as Todd passed by. Having no toilet paper I managed the best that I could and climbed out of the woods in the hopes of still chasing them down if my stomach would cooperate. I was a little worried as it was in this section last year that my race literally fell apart with debilitating cramps all the way to the finish line. I had continued to have little sizzling cramps all day and was worried these were a sign of worse to come. I caught back up with Todd who encouraged that I pass him again and chase down the runner ahead. I figured I was fifth at best, knowing Dacia, Courtney and Sarah were still ahead of me and the female runner directly ahead. I caught up with Shelby, ran behind her for a moment, she didn't really seem to want me to pass her, which is completely understandable on downhill technical trail at 20+ miles in to a marathon. But I had found a little bit of that racing competitiveness in myself and thought I would use it while I had it.

Once I was ahead of Shelby I wondered how far ahead Courtney and Sarah were, I decided to pick up the pace in the hopes that I could at least decrease the time between us. I took two more salt pills hoping that would keep cramps at bay. Running along the fireroad I thought I saw Sarah up ahead. I was starting to get a little tired but I held on hoping I could catch Sarah. Over a little hill I caught a runner, a female from the 25k, and wondered if I really had seen Sarah at all. Then coming up to the final aid station I was sure it was Sarah ahead. I stopped at the aid station trying to wolf down a GU and drink a little water before I went out to chase. I was watching Sarah pull ahead and choking on the cup of water and I got excited. Seriously all day had been kind of a bummer and seeing Sarah up ahead made it feel like the race that it was. I had been looking for Sarah and Courtney all day after I had passed Lauren but had decided after the climb there was probably no chance in running either of them down.

I took off on the asphalt and it was a quick minute before I could even see Sarah again. She was running STRONG! I don't know if she had seen me when she was at the aid station but she was burning the road up. I was running hard and loving every second of it. She turned and looked at me and I swear she picked it up even more, I looked down and we were running a 7:10 at over 25 miles into the marathon. I was so thankful that she was there, I knew I wouldn't have pushed like this if she wasn't. Then I had a moment where I questioned chasing her down, but I'll be honest, I thought I might still have a chance of a top 3 finish, I thought I should give it my all if that was still a possibility. Turning on to the trail I got even more excited, I don't know where Sarah trains, but I know where I train and that is mostly on trails, I thought I had a better chance of chasing her down on trails then on roads which are not my strong suit. At the same time I knew we were extremely close to the finish line. She fought hard to the finish, and I passed her less than thirty seconds out from the finish line. I finished in 4:17 with her right behind me. Then I realized we were 5th and 6th female and I kind of felt like a jerk. Todd had to keep reminding me over the evening that it was a race and Sarah wouldn't have hard feelings. I think a little of me felt like I needed that finish but then afterwards it didn't give me any satisfaction.

In the end it was an alright day. I think I made a pivotal error by not filling my bottle up at that first aid station. But between the cramps and stomach trouble I still had a day that wasn't all that bad. Todd and I had made plans to run again that afternoon. After about an hour of socializing with our fellow Mountain Junkies we headed to Lynchburg to finish up our double. I had taken my wet shoes off at the race and had discovered a handful of blisters on my feet, probably from being dehydrated and that made for a painful shoe change as we went back out for more trails.

Other than painful feet the start of the second run went better than I had expected. But then storms moved in on us which was honestly less than fun. And then my stomach went south. Like worse than Hellgate last December. I was stopping every five minutes and running, especially downhill, was murder. I had an awesome, supportive group out there in the rain with me, encouraging me to keep moving no matter how slow. I really wish that I could bring them to Western States with me. I know I would have called the run after the first half hour of stomach trouble. Unfortunately, the stomach trouble plagued me for the entire second run which was over three hours and was definitely short of my 50 mile goal for the day. My highly supportive friends who suffered through many stops and two storms would have gone on but I decided that my legs would easily carry me the extra mileage but that the stomach wasn't really making the suffering through the thunderstorm of any real benefit. I felt confident that I could keep moving physically but that the stomach was through for the day. We still managed about 40 for the day and this way I might be able to run by Tuesday.

This morning I feel fine. Still have a few painful blisters and my back is chaffed uncomfortably but I could run on those today if I had to run. My legs feel pretty good for their effort yesterday. Overall, I'm content and sometimes that's as good as it gets.

-Alexis

Race Report: Trail Nut Half Marathon

Mountain Junkies LLC
Trail Nut 10k & Half Marathon
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Bedford, VA

This was the second Mountain Junkies event we had the pleasure of experiencing back in 2010 when I first discovered this amazing series of races. The Mountain Junkies are a husband and wife duo that "want you to have a great time", a tagline that is evident in every aspect of the events they put together. This event, the Trail Nut 10k and Half Marathon, is one of my favorites and so close to home I couldn't pass it up even with that vow I made with myself about racing anything this short before Western States (and then of course there's that ridiculous streak of mine).

I ran the 10k in 2010, it was only my third 10k ever, second on trails and I fell in love with the park that the race introduced me to and even more in love with single track. In 2011, hellbent on finishing the series despite being pregnant, I ran the 10k and announced with my t-shirt that I was expecting a 'future Mountain Junkie'. Last year was my first attempt at the half marathon, for which personal problems led to a pretty down evening and morning before the race start. I started the race hungry and with my mind elsewhere, with legs only a week off of my second ultra, and suffered greatly.

After swearing off shorter races earlier this year when the calf trouble befell me I had to sorrowfully remove the Mountain Junkies RNUTS from my race calendar. However, after last weekend's not so stellar performance at Promise Land I began contemplating the Trail Nut. I thought about just coming out, maybe sweeping the course or being a cheerleader, but I'd seen the race t-shirt and wondered just how I could do at a race for which speed of some sort would be necessary. Todd was encouraging that I run the half, not 'sandbag' and race the 10k, he was also excited about seeing what he could do at the half marathon.

Back and forth on registering, as well as which distance to choose all the way up until we arrived at Falling Creek Park kept the nerves and race jitters down to a very fine low, almost nonexistent. Uncertain how my calf would react I registered for the half marathon, figuring the distance would afford a slighter slower overall pace. With a few minutes to spare before the race briefing I joined Todd for a quick warm-up.

The pace was slow and the calf felt good, I began to think I could pull it off. I figured I would be fifth, trailing Dacia, Courtney, Lauren and Carrie, as long as I could hold it together.

Turns out "holding it together" is a real challenge for me.

I positioned myself at the start line around  Lauren, Courtney, Randy, people I thought I should be able to run with if I ran well. When the race began I tried to go out with them. Through the grass we ran, I was keeping with them but also immediately feeling the pace, you can't keep this, Alexis, back off now. Backing off before we even entered the single track was blow number one. When the calf began to tighten, as should be expected at this point, I tried to push through. When the pain in my calf began to spread to my foot like it did at that fateful 5k back in February I had to reign it in further and lose several more positions. This was blow number two. With the calf now irritated and with a diminishing pace I began to fall victim to the negativity, contemplating a DNF. Just tell Josh your leg can't handle this, you just ran an ultra a week ago, this was foolish at best. Struggling along, the determined side of me spoke up, you can finish this, it may take three hours, but you don't DNF, it's not who you are. 

The next few miles were a tad bit miserable, but I was in this thing. I was slipping just slightly in pace as I fought on, hoping the pain in my calf would ease as it is known to do after a few miles. I just kept trying to reassure myself that it would pass. However, by the time I found myself running on pavement the pain was radiating up the hip, not full out painful, but a threat of some kind. To top it off I've been dealing with a touch of plantar fasciitis in the other foot that decided to share it's frustration with me at this point. The persistent pain, while not severe, was blow number three. I was an absolute mess.

Then, shortly before the bike park, Sarah Taylor passed me looking strong. I followed closely behind as we made our ways up the grassy hill, taking in her beautiful stride, admiring her strength. When we came into the bike park and it was flat with countless people ahead of us running seemingly in circles my first thought was this is just cruel! I could see the runners ahead of me, but then as I ran further into the flat, winding section I began to see the happy, strong faces of runners quickly approaching. I always feel a certain weakness on flats and Saturday was no different. I started to focus on Sarah, how strong she looked.

Suffering in the first miles. Photo courtesy Mountain Junkies.

And finally, that determined side spoke up, louder this time: She IS strong! But you are strong, too. Yes, you feel pain, but aren't you an ultra runner? Isn't overcoming pain part of what it takes for success? Push aside the pain, pick up the pace and run strong. I heard these thoughts and I believed them. And just like that, my race came back together, instantly. I picked up the pace and focused on that strength that I possess but consistently forget to harness.

I still felt pain in my left heel and right hip, but I started to drown them out with this new-found focus on running well. If there was anymore negative self-talk it was only that it shouldn't take me nearly five miles to decide to run on strengths, not deficiencies. The next six miles were run well, I began to settle into a better race, a better day. I was a little disoriented coming through the first loop, unsure whether I should really be crossing the finish line or not. I decided to stop at the aid station to fill up my water bottle, I was worried it would heat up in the second loop, but I probably should have just dropped the empty bottle at what would be the finish line, I didn't end up drinking much of the water and it probably cost me some time.

Going out for the second, shorter loop I felt pretty good, the heel was the only thing still really nagging me and I hoped to drop the pace even more. However, at about eleven miles the fatigue began to set in. I would have to settle for holding the pace, the legs may be capable of holding that pace for a half marathon but they really just aren't trained for it at the moment. When I came upon Blake with less than two miles to go I wondered when he had passed me. He said he'd accidentally cut the course, that he'd already told Gina about it and that he'd see me at the finish as he let me pass by him.

Coming into the final miles a volunteer directing the half marathoners told me I was in third place for females, I had been kind of hoping to chase Courtney down, but there was no one out in front of me that I could see. I had a runner behind me the entire second loop, I kept encouraging him to pass me but he kept assuring me that he was just trying to hold on. The short, but slightly steep final section of trail was not as hard as I recalled last year. I had planned on not pushing the final steps but when I saw I was capable of breaking 1:50 I picked up the pace to secure that feat.

Within moments of passing the finish line I had several people tell me I was third female and several tell me I was fourth. I didn't let the confusion bother me, I was preoccupied with a fair bit of itching. I had sat down in the grass and I don't know if that's what caused the itching but most of my legs and torso itched. Thankfully, Gina saved me with a Benadryl.

Turns out, I was third. One of the females in the race had unintentionally cut the course along with Blake and a few other guys. I felt really bad about this, like I was stealing third. Todd assured me that, while everyone involved felt bad, I was third and shouldn't feel bad about accepting the award.

Courtney Griffin (2nd), Dacia Reed (1st) and Alexis Thomas (3rd)

I urge everyone who hasn't run a Mountain Junkies race to do so, I have started several posts about just how well put together and carried out they are, but I think you just need to go out and participate to really feel what I would try to convey in a post. Conquer the Cove is next month, go sign up! You won't be sorry, but you may be sore!

Once again, post race, I'm floundering, frustrated. I feel lost. I know I can run well but being injury prone and with Western States looming closer everyday I am probably worse than ever before. I told Todd yesterday that I can't wait for July 1st, I'm just ready to see how it all turned out. I keep saying that I don't want to disappoint everyone, but to be honest, I'm most worried that I am going to disappoint myself, fall apart and quit before my time. If I could just locate that strength I know I have, bottle it up and have it ready I know I would be alright but instead I keep misplacing it, and that has me truly running scared.

-Alexis

Good Enough?

Here I was thinking I was healed and on the upward turn. Despite being well aware that I wasn't invincible and that injury beckons I was hoping that I could finally proceed with my training when I started out on Sunday's Promise Land training run. I had begrudgingly agreed to start at the camp with Todd. To be fair, I never actually voiced my opinion about leaving from the camp, but I wasn't in love with the idea, wasn't 'feeling it'. Most of the group assembled for the run were driving to the location of aid station one to avoid this very climb. Within a half mile my calves, both the generally angry one and the amiable one, started to tighten. I continued to run for a ways before I finally had to succumb to walking.

And walk I did. As the car loads of smarter individuals drove past, Andrew loudly but playfully wondering why someone who loves hills wasn't running while encountering one. Horton inquiring if we knew our way. Sam and Frank passing by like we were standing still, actually maybe we were at that moment. Todd, understandably frustrated at my hike, suggested we call it a day and head back to the car. I wouldn't even entertain the idea, I'm nothing if not entirely stubborn, I wasn't going to turn tail and run back to the car, miserable or not I was moving forward. I encouraged, nearly begged, Todd to just leave me and move forward with his run. Being a dedicated spouse and an all around nice guy he refused to leave me while I was not only the last runner, but now a good twenty minutes behind the group who had started at the top of the hill.

Truth is I was over-brimming with anger and embarrassment. Hating my weak and softened legs and a reputation I don't deserve and bewildered by the sudden flare up in the legs after a solid weak of good runs and the three rest days preceding this run. You should have run this defeating hill before submitting your application, Fool. That's right, you want that silly sweater, crawl on then. It went on like this, the down and out self pep talk that really wasn't, well past the end state maintenance sign when I finally saw a runner up ahead. Once again I encouraged Todd to run on, I wanted to be left to thoroughly wallow in self-pity and degradation.

With the promise that I would survive, he left me shortly after the turn onto single track. I think he thought I would pick up the pace as soon as he left but I just continued to walk, even after the calves had started to quiet down I continued on hiking, not wanting to catch the couple of guys ahead of me in such a funk of disappointment.

I walked, hiked and ran the eighteen plus miles like it was my job, not the hobby that I hold near and dear. The highlight of the entire run was coming upon Bethany Williams on the White Oak Ridge, where were you during Terrapin my dear lady, there is nothing more that I love than a good chase up a hill, but then she was behind me and I was left to my own devices once again, more demeaning self talk but now with sweat in my eyes.

I caught up with Kelly and Nicole at Horton's truck parked at Sunset Fields but I was terrible company I'm sure and when we arrived back at the first aid station I ran on through still having to make my way back down to my car. Knowing that we were behind on time and just wanting to be over with the run I ran this section somewhat hard. Unfortunately, it seemed to take as long running down as it had going up, I was thankful to finally pass the squirrel silhouette edging a driveway, the sign that the run was virtually over. Arriving back at the camp I'm sure I was a ray of sunlight, I hurried Joe and Todd into the car, happy to have this most blah feeling run over with.

And I thought that is where the humility would end, with the run accomplished I thought I could move on, but then I came home to record said training run.

Turns out, last year, the week before Promise Land, we did this very same run. Except it was cold and rainy and yet a full four minutes faster.

You're probably asking yourself: Seriously, Alexis, you're going to sob about four minutes? 

Yes. Yes, I am.

At this point I've been running long enough to have a certain expectation that comes from prior accomplishment and performance. I'm of the mindset that I should always be improving, getting better and yet now I'm beginning to wonder if I've been running long enough now (about three years) that I'm plateauing. Wondering if I've gotten as good as I'll get. Despite the fact that I have been injured I still feel as though I should be improving. There are good arguments I've been trying to make, for one I didn't remember or know how long last year's run had taken me, had I known, realized it was a competition with myself, maybe I could have run faster. Instead I'm realizing that my training before Holiday Lake carried me through Terrapin, I'm now feeling those six weeks of injury, the lack of intensity of any kind, the complete absence of road running or quicker leg turnover. The four minutes is just a small thing in the grand scheme, but all the proof I need to suggest I won't PR this year at Promise Land, that I'll be lucky to run what I ran last year. Instead of getting back to real training I am finding myself focusing on my weaknesses, I'm lazy, anxious, pessimistic and doubtful. An all around head case if you will. (This is where you might whisper to yourself, like I sometimes do, poor Todd.)

Really struggling in the confidence and morale department. Wishing I could borrow the opinion some others seem to have of me, borrow a little confidence too.

I think it all stems from the fact that I have never felt good enough.

When I was all of about nine years old I compiled a handful of poems I'd penned, typed them up on our word processor, printed and stapled them together. One afternoon my father who had apparently stumbled across the project titled "Lexi's Limericks" came to me with the booklet in hand and asked me where I had copied the poems from. This was the nature of compliments I remember from my childhood, the praise was present but hidden in the fact that my poems would be good enough to bring my father to think I'd plagiarized them.

Skip ahead a few years, my parents separated and me taking it quite poorly skipped school quite a bit in my eighth grade year. There was a bit of attention seeking in this I'm sure in hindsight. One particular day my gym class ran the mile as part of the presidential fitness requirements while I was out playing in the woods with two other neighborhood kids who had also run from the bus stop. Turns out unlike dissecting a frog, skipping this day of school didn't free me from partaking entirely in the event. I had to go out and run the mile with another student who had been absent with my gym teacher timing us. Unlike previous years, when I had walked in an act of defiance with my friends, I fell in behind the other student making up the mile. I ran right behind her, just watching her feet as we ran our loops around the gravel track. When we were finished I'd run just over eight minutes for the mile, not fast, but surprising for my little rebel self. The gym teacher asked me a series of questions, why did I always goof off, why didn't I try, and suggested that I could even run track if I wanted to, if I cared enough to try. I, taken aback and a tad proud, went to my father as a sounding board and told him the teacher thought I could run track. To which he responded that I couldn't just decide as a high school freshman that I wanted to run track, that it was pretty much too late for me. This was the extent of my running until three years ago.

This isn't to say my parents screwed me up, I mean they did, but I turned out normal enough and heck I'm probably screwing my kids up right now with something I'm doing, not doing, said yesterday, etc. It's what parents do, we screw up our kids, at least it's what we get blamed for. Besides, I'm quite at peace in the knowledge that we are all imperfect and I believe that my dad did the best that he could, he probably thought he was protecting me from disappointment or potential failure. In fact it's this opinion that I'm so imperfect that I believe holds me back, I'm so wrapped up in my imperfections that I fail to see that even though I may never be perfect I can be better than I am.

Lately when I pass runners while I'm driving I wonder Are they running hard? Could they run faster? Are they having fun? And I realized today while I was doing this, that really it's as though I'm asking these questions of myself. On Sunday morning, before the Promise Land run I told Todd that I really want, more than anything, to be sustainable. I want to be running for years and years to come. However, even though that's what I want the most, I still really want to be good, keep improving, to someday feel within, that I'm good enough.

-Alexis

Race Report: Promise Land 50k (Alexis)

Running an ultra was not part of my plan for the year. But then having a baby wasn't part of last year's plan and we've seen how that went. Besides, you know what they say about the best-laid plans.

So an ultra wasn't on my race calendar when the year began but rather a slew of shorter races. However, after only a few training runs with a local group of runners training for Holiday Lake 50k and I caught what I called ultra fever. I envied those registered for Holiday Lake but I knew that I wasn't ready. Terrapin fell on the same day as a race that was part of another trail series to which I was already committed. It wasn't until April that a local ultra race fell on an open weekend, Promise Land 50k. Described on the race's home page as 'the toughest 50k you'll ever love' and awarding finishers with a pair of Patagonia shorts I was intrigued. I wanted a pair of those shorts. I also wanted a chance to test out my theory that perhaps longer distances are where my strengths truly are as a runner.. I had only run one ultra (Holiday Lake) when I found out I was pregnant last year and I've been itching to run another ever since.

Off I sent my registration and check and then set about to change my mind, realizing that perhaps the best way to cure ultra fever is to register for one. My training was lacking in sufficient long runs and the thought of going the distance, which was rumored to be 34 miles, unnerved me. I changed nothing in my training regimen after submitting my application but I did begin to study the ultra. I read other's stories from past years, I quizzed all the ultra runner's I knew for advice and pointers, all the while taking mental notes on what may work for me.

Two training runs on the two weekend's preceding the race introduced me to the course. We ran the "Dark" side which included the hike up Apple Orchard Falls in sunny, warm weather where I wore poorly fitted shoes and ended up with nasty blisters. The following weekend we ran the "Light" side in chilly, rainy weather for which I was under-dressed and ill prepared. Though both runs ended with me achy and miserable they were invaluable experiences to better prepare me for the actual event. They were also my two longest training runs to date at about 15 and 18 miles.

The week leading up to Promise Land I spent approximately four hours studying the elevation profile that comes in the Runner Packet, I had nightmares, ran very little, and slept even less.  Those who cared for me told me not to stress the race. Those who knew me well knew I wouldn't be me if I didn't. I also had many phantom aches and pains, especially in my left knee. Having suffered from bouts of ITBS in that knee in the past and having it flare up at the only ultra I've ever run made it a constant nagging fear.

Friday night my amazing mother-in-law came to sleep over so that we could head out to the race headquarters and camp. We made it out to the camp Friday night just as the race director, Dr. David Horton, was beginning the race briefing. We had made up the back of the van into a makeshift bed and retreated there after a brief time at the bonfire. Surprisingly I got a little sleep, broken as it might have been, before finally giving up at 4 a.m.

Having a small baby at home whom I was nursing required that I express extra milk during the week preceding the race for the baby to have while I was away as well as pumping right before the race commenced.  This was a serious concern for me, I wasn't quite sure how my body would react to going eight or nine hours without expressing the milk, of which blocked ducts and damage to supply were my biggest fears. It was a rough morning getting started to say the least. I didn't eat as much as I normally would before a race and I didn't have coffee. I did however take two salt pills, a few Pepto Bismol, and a dose of preventative Ibuprofen.

By the time we officially began I was beyond ready to just get moving. I decided with moments to go to change the position of my race number, change my top and lose my gloves. Getting out of the camp from my position mid-pack was slow moving, I dropped my head, turned on the iPod and just started moving. I had planned to run from the start to the end road maintenance sign about two miles in and then walk to AS1. At this point I am not a good climber, I've short legs and feel that running inclines will always be to my advantage but I'm not quite able to tackle just any climb. I ran as planned to the sign and then walked to AS1 (37 minutes) where I didn't stop but returned to a jog. Shortly after entering single track I heard a voice from behind,  "Lady, your flashlight is on." I had forgotten to drop it at the AS and had stowed it in my fuel belt but had apparently turned it on in the process, I shifted to turn the light off when I realized the voice was that of my husband, Todd, whom I had passed on the way up the first climb without even noticing. He got ahead of me and I just followed.

I decided that I would stay with him if possible to Sunset Fields (AS3) where I would then probably lose him on the downhill to Cornelius Creek as he is fearless on rocky descents. When I shared this plan aloud he warned bitterly, "run your own race". Somewhat crestfallen I allowed myself to fall behind several paces but vowed silently yet even more fervently not to let him out of my sight. And through the rolling single track we ran, several people between us, but I caught him occasionally stealing glances backwards in my direction. Once he even told me to fuel, I ate three chomps, Watermelon, and swore them off after my brain nearly refused to swallow the third one. Before long the single track opened up to a horse trail, this was my favorite section of the entire day. Sometimes I was ahead of Todd, sometimes he got ahead of me, but by the time we came upon the AS at the gate we were running side by side. I grabbed two peanut butter and jelly quarters, some Pringles and a handful of M&M's and refilled my bottle. I was carrying only a 10 oz. handheld Nathan and a fuel belt with two 10 oz. bottles that I was saving for the hike up the falls later in the day.

Together we began the climb up White Oak Ridge but quickly Todd pulled away. I went back to my music and ran my own pace. Running and walking at intervals. Sometimes counting, sometimes replaying a song, doing whatever to get me further upwards. This section I know I could improve upon in the future, I did a lot of walking on what seems very runnable sections of trail. We were mostly alone on this section, we didn't see another person until the photographer at the access road. We ran the downhill side by side and I knew that I was making better time getting to Sunset Fields than I had originally planned. Just before the AS a man waiting on another runner told me he thought I was 6th female. This helped me pick up my pace and my spirits. We came into Sunset Fields the first time in 2:32.

At this point I stopped to refill my small bottle, grab more PB&J and a potato section and Todd ran on to face the descent alone. I was stoked, I had kept him to Sunset Fields as hoped for and I had made better time getting there than I thought I would. I thought that was the last time I would see Todd until the finish. I began the run down Apple Orchard Falls trail and tried to eat the food I had grabbed. My stomach saying please my mind saying not a chance. After only a few bites I threw the rest of the food out. I did well on this section, I ran it hard, focusing on my feet. On the training run this section was painful due to blisters and bad shoes, in my new Montrail Bajadas and two pairs of socks my feet (also covered in a thick coating of Bag Balm) were happy. I was happy.

When I came into AS4 I was shocked to see Todd's jersey through the trees still at the aid station. I was filling my water bottle quickly as I saw him disappearing down the road when Horton confirmed I was 6th female and that top 10 females would get a special award. I grabbed two more PB&J quarters and two crackers and took off. I'd made it in 3:12, I had read you can double your time at this AS to give yourself an idea of a finishing time. I ate the crackers but the head really wasn't accepting the PB&J quarters any longer. I held on to them for over a mile before I tossed the second one.

I was slowly gaining on Todd when Dr. Horton passed by in a truck whispering, or perhaps shouting, I'm not really sure, "Top 10 females". I hadn't seen another female in front of  me or behind me all day but I knew that I didn't want to slip from 6th after holding that position for almost 20 miles. I caught back up with Todd but instead of passing him I engaged him in conversation, he told me to go on but I knew we were headed into single track again and thought it would be nice to have the company. He confided he was having a rough patch. I was beginning to feel tired.

We did a lot of hiking but still ran between AS4 and AS5 at Colon Hollow. I grabbed more PB&J but they tasted like poison and I threw them out. This would prove to be the worst move I made all day, not eating enough real food at the aid stations in general but especially after my body had already shown warning signs.

This next section was the hardest mentally all day. I grew more and more tired over the next several miles. My stomach started to revolt the lack of actual food it had received. I'd been doing well (at least for me) on hydrating, emptying my bottle between each AS, but my caloric intake was not satisfactory. I walked a lot. This section had seemed so rolling during the training run, now it all seemed uphill. I berated myself.  Todd and I pushed and pulled each other through this section, sometimes he was ahead setting the pace and pulling me and other times I was ahead looking back for him. The weather was nice, I told him I was glad I had ditched the long sleeve shirt at the start. We dunked our hats in the creek when it was deep enough and rolling. Todd thought the next AS was closer, I feared it was not, that we'd finally stumbled upon some of those extra Horton miles you hear about so often. At about 24 miles in Todd asked if I wanted to stick it out the rest of the way together, maybe cross the finish line together. I readily accepted the proposal knowing he would be an asset climbing the falls. Finally I started to comeback, I was feeling better and we once again were going downhill which helped pull us along.

We came into the AS at Cornelius Creek for the second time at 4:52 and I made a point to grab food that I thought my body would accept, especially with the hike up the falls approaching. The volunteers told me I was the 6th girl they'd seen through at that point. I was starting to feel some pressure. I grabbed a handful of trail mix, some Oreo's and a large handful of Ritz crackers and headed off with my bottles full and the climb to come steep. I called back for Todd to hurry up and started off up the flat section that would ultimately lead to the falls and the hardest terrain to cover for the entire day.

The first section of the trail was relatively flat and I felt like we should be running but instead we recovered from being exhausted and ate the food we'd acquired. Those Ritz crackers were amazing. We chatted and hiked and our moods were quite merry. The trick here is that it isn't actually getting up to the falls that is so trying but rather the section just past the falls up to Sunset Fields. Especially the long string of man-placed stairs set apart at such an awkward distance that you can't even set a pace as you climb that really tires you out. We were just past the falls when Todd commented that we are about to receive a storm. We decided to pick up the pace and try for Sunset Fields before the storm arrived. Unfortunately, even with the improved pace we didn't outrun the storm. And what a storm. The temperature dropped, it rained, it hailed. My arms burned from the cold and being pelted by hail. It was hard. I was so thankful when I approached a sign that said .3 to Sunset Fields. I thought about all of the people behind us and how the weather was going to effect them. We were about to reach the home stretch and the rain was discouraging, I could only fathom what runners further out who may not have even reached the falls were experiencing.

We made it to Sunset Fields in 5:49. We had climbed the falls in much worse weather than hoped for in just under an hour. Again, this is definitely a time that could be improved upon but I was happy with on race day. I didn't even fill my bottle because it was so cold and wet I just wanted to keep moving. We took off and headed towards the final section. We walked the final uphill though I felt like we should be running it and Todd told me to start out ahead when we turned off to start the final descent. It was wet and the trail was starting to fill with little streams, but we took it on as fast as we might have if it had been dry. It was cold but thrilling. During a particularly rocky section Todd got ahead and shouted that I would catch him on the downhill road section. Before long we were at the last AS and we ran past.  This section is so steep going that it's best to just open up and let gravity do its will. By the time it starts to level out just slightly you are already going at break neck speed and we just continued on. I knew Todd wanted to finish in 6:30 and that we were going to be close but just miss it but I tried to keep the pace up. Todd said his quads were cramping up. I wouldn't back down the pace for either of our sake. I stole a glance backwards up the hill there was no one in sight but still I pushed on, wanting us to be as close to 6:30 as we could get.

When the road flattened out Todd got on the shoulder of the road and apologized that we couldn't go any faster. I knew he was hurting but I also knew we were so close to the finish. I was feeling good at this point and pumped to the max with adrenaline. We rounded the turn into the camp and there at the far right was the  pavilion and the finishing line, we clasped hands and covered the last hundred yards holding hands. We had covered the 34 miles (according to my Garmin, 34.04) in 6:33. Almost a half hour faster than I had hoped for and feeling pretty good. No injuries which is almost as exciting as the faster-than-anticipated finishing time. I got my pair of the coveted finisher's short and a very nice finisher's shirt for being the 6th female to finish.

Then the cold started to sink in and my teeth started to chatter. I made my way to the car where I slowly warmed up, changed clothes and ate far too many doughnuts and cookies. Once warmed up a little we went back out to watch more finishes and eat some post-race food. As the day wore on the soreness settled in but it was better than I'd expected. Mostly I was tired. We had a lazy evening with the kids but by Sunday we were up to our usual antics with the help of a few ibuprofen and rolling the most painful muscles out with a golf ball. Today (Tuesday) I feel great.

All in all, it was a great day. I finished ahead of my goals and I got to run off and on with my wonderful training and life partner. There were several places that I can already identify as needing improvement which I think is a positive thing because it suggests I could finish even stronger. I need to further focus on hill running, long runs, and proper fueling. Also I'm only averaging about 40 miles a week and I've been told if I can increase my mileage more improvement can be made. But Saturday did confirm one thing for me, I love this distance. I was so fearful of the mileage before the race began but once I was out there running I never once thought I wasn't going to finish which gave me a much needed confidence boost in tackling further ultra distances.

-Alexis